Page 9 of Impossible
“Visit,but—what I was going to say before you rudely interrupted—you obviously won’t allow that.” She gave him a scolding look. “Furthermore, I’ve only just begun, and I promised Lucien a thorough review. I keep my promises, my lord.”
She didn’t say that he didn’t keep his, but she’d just admitted to not trusting him, which was nearly the same thing.
“I’ve begun reading about estate management.” She inclined her head toward the open book on the table. “I’d love to speak with your tenants, and I imagine that will take at least the fortnight—”
“That is not what you are here to do. I don’t know what constitutes your ‘thorough review,’ but it isn’t interviewing my tenants. You’re here to look at my ledgers. You’ve already far overstepped. I should return you to London immediately.”
“You saidshould, which leads me to believe you will not.” Her lips spread in a brief satisfied smile. “What harm am I doing, exactly, Lord Warfield?”
She was aggravating the hell out of him.
“I think you must realize this is important,” she continued. “To ensure your ledgers are updated and accurate, I need information. I’m sure you’ll agree, however, that accuracy isn’t enough. Your estate must be profitable, and I suspect it’s not.” A faint grimace pulled at her alluring pink lips.
Wait.She was saying Stonehill was failing. Anger coiled within him.
Except he didn’t care if the estate failed. He had no reason to make it profitable. There was enough money for him to live out his life, however long he was cursed to endure it.
The urge to toss her in his coach and have Og drive her to London was overwhelming. But he knew Lucien would only come back and harass him again. The next time Lucien visited, Max feared they would come to blows. Again. Perhaps this time, they wouldn’t stop.
Exhaling, he ran his hand through his hair. She was staring at him. Specifically, at the scarred left side of his face. He’d been intrigued by the fact that she hadn’t seemed to notice his disfigurement, but clearly she had. Just as she didn’t want him to know that it bothered her, as evidenced by her rapid blinking and refocusing on the other side of his face. The handsome side. Sometimes he wished it was scarred too.
“If you stay, can you stop annoying me?” he asked.
She frowned, and the little pleats between her brows that he’d noticed while she was reading returned. “I confess I find it difficult to understand why you find me annoying. In general, people find me quite amiable and often seek my company. I try very hard to improve the moods of those around me. If someone is having a bad day, I do my best to make it better.” She pinned him with a frank stare. “You seem to have perpetual bad days, and so far, nothing I do improves a thing. I’ve tried to stay out of your way. That’s why I left you a note instead of bothering you in person.”
Yes, she had done that. He hadn’t even spoken to her yesterday, and the only reason he’d seen her was because he’d spied on her. “I do appreciate that.”
She was also right that every single day was bad. So perhaps it wasn’t that she was annoying at all. The problem, which he very much knew, was his.
Except shewasannoying, and it was precisely because she was charming and exuberant and sought to cheer him. He didn’t want to let go of any of the bitterness that made him the nasty beast he’d become and that everyone avoided. If he allowed her to break through his defenses even the slightest bit, his war could very well be lost.
“Would you like to answer the rest of my questions now?” she asked hopefully.
“In writing.” He’d had enough of her for the moment. “Just do your work and leave me alone. And don’t bother anyone unless you ask me first.”
“How am I to do that and leave you alone at the same time? Shall I request to meet with people in writing and wait for your approval? That seems rather inefficient.”
He growled low in his throat.
“That wasn’t a response. Or if it was, I can’t translate it. I’m afraid I don’t speak Angry Gentleman.” She leaned toward him slightly. “Is there a guide that would help me?”
Now she was just poking fun. Trying to improve his mood. He refused to be amused.
He glowered at her. “You’re annoying me again.”
“My apologies. I will send you a list of the people I wish to see. Is there someone who can drive me around the estate in your coach? Or do you perhaps have a cart so that I can see things without having to peer through a window?”
She acted as if she were some sort of expert on estates. “What on earth would you even be looking for?”
Shrugging, she waved her hand. “Everything. I’m a keen observer. And an excellent listener.”
“I find that hard to believe since you’re almost always talking,” he muttered.
“Would it further annoy you for me to say that you are also being annoying?” she asked sweetly.
She nearly provoked him to laugh. Nearly. He gritted his teeth.
Her eyes lit. “Was that a faint smile?”
